Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Why do I cosleep?

Why do I cosleep?

So I can keep sleeping when you need to nurse.

So I can smell the sweet milky breaths you breathe all night long.

So I can stare at your moonlight-bright cheeks and marvel at  your perfection.

So I can help you connect with Daddy after a day of being separated.

So I can monitor your fever throughout the fitful, restless night.

So I can hear you choking and coughing, then catch the vomit in my hand (!!) before it gets all over you.

So I can feel the perfect fit of you snuggled up against my side.

So I can wake up to you patting my cheek and singing to me.

So we can snuggle our way to wakefulness each day.

So we can laugh and wrestle and connect on lazy Saturday mornings.

So I can enjoy you fully before you are too grown up to need to be in my bed anymore.

Because you are my child.

Monday, April 16, 2012

Using Wish Fulfillment with Toddlers

Awhile back I came across an article from API Speaks.  It's called Lying: The Developmental Truth, and it outlined how one mama dealt with her four-year-old's tendency to lie.  Lying is a developmental stage, one that can be expected from most neuro-typical kids.  This mama found that some of her child's lying had to do with wish fulfillment: the boy wanted something to be true, so he said that it was regardless of what mom could clearly see.

Interesting stuff.  It really caught my attention, and I percolated the idea for a while.

Gus and Jack aren't at the developmental stage where lying comes into play yet, but I've started using the concept of wish fulfillment to help them cope with disappointment.  Toddlers experience a lot of disappointment in their lives; they can't always make their bodies do what they want, and they can't always find the words to express what they want.

As they get bigger, kids' needs and wants diverge.  When my boys were infants what they wanted was the same as what they needed: food, warmth, love, connection.  Now that they're two, that piece of candy that they want is a far cry from what they actually need.  

So when one of them is crying because I won't give him any more crackers before dinner, our conversation goes something like this:

"Sorry, kiddo.  Dinner is almost ready, and we'll be eating soon."
"Hmmm... I bet you wish you could have more crackers, huh?"
"Yes.  More crackers, mama!"
"Do you wish you could eat all the crackers in the package?"
"Do you wish you could eat all the crackers in the whole world?"
"No, mama!  Only more crackers."
"It sounds like you're really hungry.  Let's go eat dinner now."
"Come with you, mama?"
"Yes, baby, you can come with me.  Let's go."

As silly as I get with the wish fulfillment aspect of this, though, what really makes it work is the connection.  These types of conversations aren't had from across the room, or while I'm doing something else.  I get down on the floor, and we talk.  I acknowledge my son's emotions, and we connect.  I'm letting him know I hear him, and I appreciate what he's saying.  But sometimes you've gotta stop eating crackers so you can have dinner.

I also use the same strategy for other things, like putting on shoes, or changing from pjs into clothes, or after El.mo's World is over.  I don't know why it works, I just know that-- for now at least-- it does.

And I'm really grateful to have this gentle tool in my parenting toolbox.

More butterflies, mama?